


Aragorn's Choice

by Geekygirl24



Series: LOTR/Hobbit AU series [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aragorn is King, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19003036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geekygirl24/pseuds/Geekygirl24
Summary: Aragorn was not looking forward to his coronation and wedding... until he saw Prince Legolas's name on the list of prospective 'brides'.





	1. Chapter 1

Aragorn had tried to get away from this conversation.

 

He even considered escaping the open rooms of Rivendell and hiding back out into the wild, taking on the name of Strider again and living in the shadows.

 

It had taken a lot of persuasion for him to even think about taking the throne of Gondor, as was his birth-right, but this… this was going to be torture.

 

His surrogate father, Elrond, had called the meeting only ten minutes ago, but he seemed to sense what Aragorn had planned and sent Elladan and Elrohir to fetch him. He had a serious expression on his face, and the last time Aragorn had seen that expression, was when Elrond had expressed the importance of taking the throne whilst everything in the world was still relatively peaceful.

 

Eventually, Elrond broke the silence, “As you know, your crowning ceremony is in less than a year… and I received a ‘concerned’ letter from Denethor, who is worrying about the lack of an heir. Apparently, if you should die before having a child, then Gondor will fall.”

 

Aragorn knew what the letter really said… probably something along the lines of that Denethor would be ‘proud to reassume the role of steward should the worse come to pass.’ 

 

It was a pity Denethor’s sons were still too young to assume the role.

 

“So of course…” Elrond continued, “… It does mean that we need to think about finding you a suitable Queen or Royal Consort. Before you say anything…” he held up a hand, stopping Aragorn just as he opened his mouth, “… before you say anything, you know that I would never force you to marry someone who you didn’t like, so I have compiled a list of names of both women and carriers who you might like.”

 

He handed a piece of parchment over to Aragorn, who nodded his thanks to the man he’d consider an Ada. Glancing at the names, Aragorn instantly knew which ones he would even consider, and the ones that could be cast off immediately. Rising from his seat, he grabbed the closest quill and ink bottle, bringing them back to the middle.

 

“I will go through the names and cross those who I don’t like off of it…” Aragorn explained, knowing that by making it appear like he was complying with the wishes of Elrond, then everything would go a lot smoother, “… I’ll circle those who I’ll consider asking. I can work through them, and if they’re either in a committed relationship or not interested, then I’ll move onto the next one.”

 

“Estel…”

 

Aragorn glanced up at the warning tone, wincing slightly at Elrond’s significant look.

 

“… I do expect you to pick someone. This isn’t just going to go away.”

 

“Yes Lord Elrond.”

 

………………………………………………….

 

Once he’d had a good read over the list, there was only one name left - Prince Legolas Greenleaf. 

 

They had met before, as Elrond and Legolas’s father often held meetings together as the respective leaders/rulers of Rivendell and Greenwood, coming closer over the years. Now, that was mostly due to the fact that he would follow the Prince everywhere, watching him curing his archery lessons and even trying to persuade the Prince to spar with him.

 

I think everyone was grateful when he grew out of that awkward stage.

 

Legolas was handsome though, well-mannered and everything he ever wanted in a husband, and consort. They weren’t the only reasons behind the choice of course. Having been raised as a Prince, Legolas would provide good insights on future policies and it would help maintain good relations with Greenwood.

 

With the decision set in his mind, he made his way out of the library. Upon opening the doors, Elladan and Elrohir fell forwards, landing heavily on the floor.

 

“Hello Elladan. Hello Elrohir.” Aragorn sighed, hoping that he wouldn’t have to discuss the prospect of him getting married in front of them. When Elrond appeared behind them though, it was clear that this wasn’t going to be the case.

 

“Estel is just considering who is going to be his future Queen or Royal Consort.” Elrond explained to the curious twins., “If you two have so much free time to eavesdrop, then maybe I should consider making a list for you?”

 

“So Estel…” Elladan quickly piped up, clearly trying to change the subject, “… have you found someone you like? A certain, blonde-haired prince for example?”

 

Elrohir and himself could still remember the early days, where their younger, adoptive brother would eagerly follow Prince Legolas around, his eyes practically love-hearts as he stared at the older prince.

 

“… It’s none of your business.” Aragorn muttered, straightening up and trying to ignore the flush in his cheeks as he turned to Lord Elrond, and handed the list over, practically holding his breath as Elrond scanned over the underlined names.

 

Hopefully he agreed with his choices… well, choice.

 

“Prince Legolas is an excellent choice…” Elrond finally admitted, “… It’s Thranduil we’ll have to convince though. He is very protective of his only heir, ever since the death of his wife.”

 

“I understand.”

 

“The fact that you like him is also an excellent factor” Elrond stated, a sly smirk on his face.

 

………………………………………………………..

 

The reply to the marriage proposal came through almost a month later, carried by an eager rider on horseback.

 

The letter read as;

 

Dear King Estel,

 

Aragorn… Strider, whichever name you prefer. My father has just informed me that he has decided to accept your marriage proposal (after much deliberation). I know that this proposal would not have been made without Lord Elrond consulting you first, and I thank you for thinking of me. I have admired you for many years, and if the betrothal agreement is finalised (which I have no doubt it will be), then I shall be honoured to be your Prince Consort. I will see you soon.

 

Prince Legolas Greenleaf, Heir of Greenwood.

 

As soon as he finished reading the letter, a smile crept onto his face. 

 

Prince Legolas was going to be his Consort.

 

………………………………………………………………

 

It was a warm autumn day, and Aragorn had decided to walk around the lake on his own, taking advantage of the peace and quiet.

 

It was unlikely that he’d get a chance like this when he was King.

 

Halfway around his little walk, Aragorn got the sensation he was being watched, hand already itching towards the ceremonial sword attached to his belt. If it was an assassin, he wasn’t going to give them the choice.

 

Looking around, he could see the trees and other sculptures of Rivendell, but no-one appeared to be looking directly at him. Resuming his walk, he felt a presence behind him.

 

It wasn’t until he felt someone try and place a hand on his shoulder, that he went to defend himself. Struggling against their strength, Aragorn stumbled over a branch and fell to the ground, bringing his attacker down with him.

 

The first thing he noticed was the musical laughter…. The second was the golden blonde hair.

 

“Prince Legolas!” Aragorn gasped, opening his mouth to apologise, only to stop in his tracks. The gleam of the mellow autumn sun through the elf’s hair made him look more angelic, and Aragorn’s breath was stolen away.

 

He was just as beautiful as Aragorn remembered, if not more.

 

He was still for a moment, before claiming Legolas’s lips with his own. The kiss was all-consuming and neither of them seemed to be able to get enough. Legolas tried to draw the Kings’ body closer to his, though there was no space between him.

 

The kiss stopped almost as soon as it started, with Aragorn breaking it as he knew that he would not be able to control himself if they did continue. 

 

Legolas seemed shocked by the fact that the other man had pulled away… he was so sure that the man he’d known as Strider had feelings for him. “Have I… done something wrong?” he asked.

 

“No, no, no! Of course not! I-I just didn’t want to compromise you.”

 

Legolas’s face softened at the thought that the King did not ruin his marriage prospects. He had known from the start, that despite Aragorn’s rough appearance during his time as Strider, the man was a gentleman underneath all that.

 

“It’s okay…” he whispered, “… I understand.”

 

Later that night, as Aragorn lay in his bed, the memory of Legolas’s soft smile kept flashing in his mind.

 

He slept well that night.

 

…………………………………………………………….

 

“The betrothal documents have been finalised. All we need now is for you and Prince Legolas to sign them.”

 

Aragorn nodded in understanding, “When will the signing take place?”

 

“Three months from now…” Elrond suddenly sighed, “… I know I was pushing for this, but I still can’t believe it’s happening.”

 

“I know… how soon do we have to start planning the wedding after the papers have been signed?”

 

“As soon as you’ve signed them of course. It does need to take place around the same time as your planned coronation, so we’ll start discussing it immediately.”

 

The next few days passed by very slowly for Aragorn, his thought completely on the upcoming wedding and the signing of the papers. He just wanted them signed, so that he could marry Legolas… even if his coronation did have to happen at around the same time.

 

The months did eventually pass however, and Aragorn felt a lot lighter on that morning. Striding to the table, he retuned Lord Elrond’s smile before sitting down.

 

“Nice to see you on time for once.” Elrond smirked, “And actually dressed in a decent manner.”

 

“Something tells me that King Thranduil won’t appreciate my usual attire.”

 

“Well done for showing the signs of becoming a wise king.” Elrond pushed himself to his feet, and headed towards the exit, smirking slightly as Aragorn made a small, offended noise, “Come on now. We do not want to be late.”

 

“Of course not.”

 

……………………………………………………………

 

They made it to the entrance just as Thranduil and Legolas arrived. Aragorn couldn’t help but smile brightly at his future husband, the morning sun catching the blonde rays, making them look like a halo above his head.

 

“Come…” Elrond held out his arm for the others to follow, “… we will speak in my study.”

 

Filing into the open room, Elrond gestured to a scroll that had been left on the desk. “The contract were written up exactly as you requested Thranduil. The only thing left is to read over them, and for all of us to sign them.”

 

Despite Thranduil’s grumbles, the contract was read and signed fairly quickly, neither of them hesitated (which was always pleasing to see). 

 

As they left the area, Aragorn found that he was actually a little bit more excited about his wedding and coronation day.


	2. Wedding Jitters

“Can I change my mind? Is it too late?”

 

Elrond was clearly resisting the urge to sigh in exasperation. “Estel. This is the thirtieth time you’ve asked since signing the contract. One more sunrise and then this will all be over.”

 

“Elopement is tempting.”

 

“Don’t even consider it.” Elrond raised an eyebrow, “It will be me who had to deal with Thranduil.”

 

“Is our soon-to-be-King still not ready yet?”

 

Aragorn turned to the doors, where Boromir and his younger brother, Faramir were striding in (thankfully without the presence of their Father).

 

“O good, maybe you two can help?” Elrond sighed, “Kindly remind your King exactly why he has to go through this?”

 

“Get dressed?” Boromir chuckled, “I can think of a few good reasons.”

 

Before Elrond could really lose his patience, Faramir cautiously spoke up. “Prince Legolas is almost ready. In fact, everything’s in place except for you.”

 

Silence.

 

“Your Highness… is something wrong?”

 

Aragorn smoothed down his sleeves, wincing at the weight of the armour on his chest. “I just… all my life, I have been preparing to become King, but nothing has been said about getting married. How do I ensure that happy ever after ending? How do I make sure Legolas is… happy?”

 

Boromir looked a little uncomfortable with the concerns, and the following silence felt heavy and stifling.

 

The sound of footsteps reached his ears, and an elegant figure emerged from around the corner. Aragorn felt like the air had been punched right from his lungs as Legolas glided closer, hands behind his back and a fond smile on his face.

 

“I don’t have long.” He smiled warmly, “Father will notice that I’m missing soon.”

 

Aragorn could only stare, eyes shifting over to Elrond and the brothers. Elrond sighed, “We’ll be back in two minutes. Maybe you’ll have better luck with him Prince Legolas.”

 

They barely acknowledged the trio leaving, before Legolas was rushing over and taking Aragorn’s hand, “Why didn’t you tell me you were so concerned? Why didn’t you tell me about your worries?”

 

Carefully rearranging his uniform, Aragorn sighed. “I don’t want… to ruin things between us.” As he tried to look down at the ground, hoping to hide his expression, he felt a gentle hand on his chin, encouraging him to look Legolas in the eyes.

 

“Meleth.” The Elven Prince smiled softly, cupping his hands on Aragorn’s cheeks, “We will do this together. I am with you every step of the way, you just need to let me support you.” 

 

Aragorn nodded, taking a deep breath.

 

“I will see you later Meleth.” Legolas whispered softly, pressing a kiss to his betrothed’s rough cheek, before sneaking back out.

 

And then the trumpets 

 

……………………………………………………………….

 

Having made it to his own dressing room without incident, Legolas took a few deep breaths before getting changed into his own wedding outfit, before staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror. The reflection that stared back was familiar and yet not at the same time, making his heart leap.

 

He’d worn outfits like this before, especially as a Prince of Mirkwood, but none of them had quite been this… beautiful.

 

He felt as though he was standing in a dream and that everything they’d spent months planning would come crashing down, and he’d be forced back into reality. It was all too perfect to be true; the outfit, the location and the man he was about to be married to. He’d dreamed of this day when he was young – during all those stories his own Father talked about his betrothal and marriage to his wife.

 

But the day had come, and it was indeed real.

 

There was a gentle knock on the door, before his Father strode in. “Ah, good, you’re ready.” He closed the door behind him, “How are you feeling?”

 

Legolas gave his reflection another once over, smiling nervously, “I… don’t know just yet. I can’t believe this is finally happening.” He adjusted his tunic slightly, smoothing his fingers over the embroidery, the golden leaves that been sewn onto it.

 

“Hmmm.” His Father didn’t sound very happy about the fact, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder and gently turning him around, “I have heard that the soon-to-be king, is just as nervous.”

 

He does have to go through a little more than I.” Legolas sighed, “He’s being crowned as well as getting married.”

 

“I think you’ll find, you’re getting crowned as well.”

 

“But with Estel at my side. He’s not going to have that support.”

 

Legolas watched as his Father rolled his eyes in the mirror, neatening out one of his braids, before turning to face the Elven king. 

 

“Estel is getting crowned at this moment.” Thranduil took a deep breath, “Then it’ll be your turn. Are you ready?”

 

As Father of the Royal Consort, he looked just slightly less stunning than Legolas, choosing a simpler style of clothing and hair so as not to outshine his son…. For once.

 

“Yes.” Legolas gave his father a reassuring smile, “I’m ready.”

 

………………………………………………………………………….

 

Aragorn resisted the urge to fidget with the heavy crown on his head. He’d said his coronation vows perfectly, nothing had gone horribly wrong… and now it was time for the wedding. He felt a wonderful mix of nervousness and excitement.

 

Much like the crowning ceremony, the wedding was taking place outside… with everyone watching.

 

A hush soon fell over the crowd as everyone turned to the back of the clearing where Legolas and Thranduil had just appeared.

 

Aragorn was speechless.

 

Legolas always looked fantastic, but somehow this was different. Heart beating in his chest, the new king tried to swallow as he felt a rush of emotions flare in his chest.

 

Legolas was there to marry him.

 

He could have refused to marry Aragorn. He could have chosen anyone of his suitors to marry, but he accepted Aragorn’s proposal.

 

Music echoed through the area as Thranduil started to walk Legolas down the aisle, a small look of delight on his face.

 

There was a warm breeze as Legolas practically glided towards him. The few trees in the area almost seemed drawn to the Prince, thin branches reaching out for him. The music came to a stop as the Prince took his place beside the King, the two looking at each other with similar glints in their eyes.

 

“We are gathered here today,” Mithrandir began as Thranduil moved to one side.

 

Aragorn wanted to reach out and touch Legolas’s cheek, a pull emanating from his chest and willing him to move closer. He didn’t, but instead, brought his hands forward to twine with hers. Mithrandir’s words were barely registering in either of their minds, but when it came time to agree to the union, they both said their ‘I do’s’.

 

“You may now kiss your husband.”

 

Aragorn and Legolas both finally gave into the almost magnetic pull, their lips meeting in the first kiss of their marriage. 

 

When they parted, Mithrandir then instructed Legolas to kneel in front of him, so that the crown of the Prince Consort could be placed on his head.

 

“Rise, Prince Consort Legolas.”

 

The pair then turned back to the crowd, their hands intertwined.

 

“Long live King Estel! Long live Prince Consort Legolas Greenleaf!”


	3. Chapter 3

Legolas’s heart was in his throat as the wedding celebrations slowly came to an end. From dawn to the moment the crown was placed on his head, all he could think about was the wedding itself.

 

From the moment the ceremony was over to right now, his main concern was the wedding night.

 

Normally, he loved parties (hard not to when Thranduil was your father), but a sense of anxiety had started to wind its’ way from his stomach to his throat. He’d barely eaten anything and refused to drink too much alcohol.

 

When the party came to an end, the pair were given permission to excuse themselves, heading towards the marriage bed. 

 

“It’s a little cold.” Aragorn whispered, moving over to the fireplace and starting a small fire, “After the weather we had today, I had hoped it would be a little warmer.” He then turned back to Legolas, who was sitting primly on the edge of the bed, “We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t wish. The law states that we have a week before- “

 

“- I do want to.” Legolas was quick to reassure him, “Aragorn… I want you.”

 

He’s scared, more afraid than he’s been in decades, but it’s still what he wants. He tilted his head up when Aragorn leaned in for a kiss, keeping in chaste until suddenly, it wasn’t. Aragorn clearly wanted him too, wanted him now and wouldn’t stop unless Legolas asked him to.

 

When Legolas found himself wrapped up in Aragorn’s arm, he felt safer than he ever had before. 

 

This was where he was meant to be.

 

“I honestly expected something more extravagant for your wedding outfit.” Aragorn whispered as they broke apart, “I’ve seen some of Thranduil’s outfits before.”

 

“I didn’t want to make this too hard for you.”

 

“And I appreciate this.”

 

Legolas could see the smile in Aragorn’s eyes, tongue darting out to wet his lips before shyly returning it. “I thought you might.”

 

The mood moved into something more serious as Aragorn’s fingers fumbled with the clasps. The king’s hands were careful, undoing each clasp carefully before helping the elf remove it, leaving his bare-chested.

 

He looked at Aragorn, and Aragorn looked at him and it was so unfair that the king was still dressed, and well-put together, staring at Legolas like he was the light of his life.

 

Legolas was glad he’d decided not to drink, as he was barely stopping his hips from rocking up… of course, when Aragorn titled his head down and pressed a kiss to the front of his pants before unlacing them and pulling them off.

 

They ended up discarded somewhere by the foot of the bed, and Legolas swallowed nervously.

 

He watched as Aragorn undressed himself. “How do you want to do this?” He asked, clearly just as nervous as Legolas. Legolas swallowed again, before sitting up a little more.

 

“I-I want to see your face.” He whispered, reaching out and pulling Aragorn towards him and into a kiss. Aragorn rocked down into it, settling between Legolas’s thighs and rolling his hips.

 

“Is this okay?”

 

Legolas just nodded, hoping that he wasn’t flushing too hard.

 

Aragorn seemed to understand this, and nodded, moving away to find the ceremonial oil that had been left in the room. When he came back, he fit in between Legolas’ legs again, lifting one to rest on his shoulder.

 

“I’m going to start with my fingers.” He whispered softly, flushing slightly himself, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

It stops hurting soon enough, as Aragorn kept kissing him even as he stretched him, stroking Legolas’s cock if he made a noise of complaint. After a while, Legolas leaned up to kiss Aragorn, “I’m ready.” He smiled nervously, “I’m ready, I’ll let you know if you’re hurting me.”

 

Aragorn didn’t look entirely convinced, but nodded anyway, pulling Legolas’s legs up onto his shoulders. “Deep breaths.” He warned the elven prince, as he started to push in, taking his time with it.

 

Legolas wished he would just push it all in, instead of taking his time like this.

 

“You can go faster.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Please… my King please.” He pulled Aragorn down and kissed him on the forehead, “Please.”

 

Aragorn listened.

 

He sped up, making Legolas cry out, fingernails digging into Aragorn’s shoulder as he rocked his own body to try and keep up. Under the heavy stimulation, it wasn’t a surprise when he came first, creating a mess between them. Aragorn kept going until his hips started to stutter and he came with a gasp.

 

For a moment, they were completely still as they both tried to catch their breaths. Legolas let out a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding in, pulling Aragorn in for another kiss as his legs fell from around the king’s waist.

 

“I’ll have the servants prepare the bath in the adjourning room.” Aragorn stated, “You don’t want to feel asleep like this.”

 

Legolas just nodded, eyes widening as Aragorn lifted him up into his arms.

 

This… this was nice.


	4. Chapter 4

“I… beg your pardon?”

 

Tauriel stared blankly at her friend, who fidgeted nervously under her gaze. Surely, she didn’t hear that correctly. Her ears must be playing tricks on her.

 

Legolas looked really anxious though, more anxious than she had ever seen him before

 

“What? Y-You’re…. pregnant?”

 

Legolas flushed bright red, only getting redder when Tauriel visibly scanned him up and down, clearly searching for any sign of his condition.

 

“You know…” She sighed, “… I really didn’t need the confirmation about what you and your husband get up to behind closed doors.” There was an awkward silence, before she cleared her throat, “Does… does Estel know?”

 

Legolas nodded, “He was the first person the healer insisted I tell.”

 

j“Was he surprised?”

 

“More than surprised. He probably would have passed out if the healer wasn’t in the room.” 

 

Tauriel nodded in understanding, before her brows knitted together in concern. An indescribable expression took over Legolas’s face, and it suddenly hit her, just how young Legolas was… in elf years anyway.

 

What must he be thinking?

 

Barely an adult himself and faced with the prospect of taking care of a tiny, defenceless child soon.

 

He must be terrified.

 

“Legolas.” She began.” Are you alright?”

 

At his quizzical look, she clarified. “Do you want this? Do you feel like you’re ready for this? You’re so young and- “ She cut herself off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

 

He needed to make this choice by himself.

 

“Honestly?” Legolas met her gaze, “I… don’t know. I’m not sure that it’s really happening… maybe this is all a dream.” He rubbed tiny circles against his abdomen, “I knew this was the goal, but- “

 

He paused, and Tauriel knew he was thinking about the end goal

 

Whatever he is seeing right now, it appears to be a good thing, as the edges of his lips twitched upwards, before it blossomed into a small, genuine smile.

 

“… Legolas?”

 

“I can’t regret this…” He whispered, “… How can I regret them?”

 

……………………………………………………………………………

 

Elvish pregnancies lasted a little longer than regular human ones, and soon, the ten months were up.

 

“Has that desk offended you in some way?”

 

Aragorn glanced up, glaring at Elladan and Elrohir, who were smirking broadly at him, the pair of them moving until one was on either side of him.

 

“Isn’t there something more productive you could be doing?” Elladan asked.

 

“Productive?” Aragorn frowned, “What do you consider productive? Giving birth in Legolas’s stead?”

 

“He meant, shouldn’t you be in the room with him?” Elrohir clarified, quirking an eyebrow.

 

“…. The healers wouldn’t let me in.”

 

“You’re the King? Can’t you order them to let you in?”

 

“King Thranduil gave me the order himself…” Aragorn leaned back in his chair, glaring at the pair, “… And trust me, I think he’d physically throw me out if I dare disobey.”

 

The twins couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. King Thranduil was definitely scary enough to throw another king physically out of the room, especially in matters relating to his precious Legolas.

 

“The baby might not be here for hours.” Elladan sighed, “Come on, you need some alcohol.”

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

Legolas was wrung out, both physically and emotionally.

 

As his Father placed the baby into his arms, Legolas found that he couldn’t stop crying. He was perfect and Legolas already loved him, his eyes so similar to his beloveds’. 

 

“Shall we fetch the King, Your Highness?” One of the mid-wives spoke up, breaking the peaceful silence.

 

“…. Just give me a moment.” He whispered, brushing fingers through the dark hair and over the slightly pointed ears, “Just give me a moment.”

 

……………………………………………………………………..

 

Aragorn hurried along the corridor, footsteps echoing off the stone walls as he rushed forwards. Upon reaching the door to the bedchamber, he paused.

 

The messenger had told him that all was well… and yet, he couldn’t help but hesitate.

 

Taking a deep breath and scolding himself mentally at his foolishness, he quietly pushed open the door.

 

Midwives and healers were moving around the edges of the room, but he took no notice of them. All his attention was fixed on Legolas propped up in bed. His sweat-damped hair was spread loosely across his shoulders and his skin almost seemed to be glowing. Aragorn had a moment to admire the elf’s beauty, before Legolas raised his head and caught sight of him. His tired expression fell away, and he softly smiled at the King.

 

“Are you- Are you well?” Aragorn asked nervously, moving a little closer.

 

“Mmmm, a little tired.” Legolas then glanced down at the bundle in his arms, “Do you want to meet him?”

 

“… Him?”

 

At this moment, Thranduil took Aragorn’s arm and moved him to the nearby chair, manipulating his arms until he was in the correct position to hold the baby. “Don’t tense up.” The other king ordered, as he placed the baby in Aragorn’s arms, “Meet your heir.”

 

Aragorn cradled the child gently in his hands. The boy’s face still has a flushed, wrinkled look under the lock of dark hair, the tips of his pointed ears still red. His tiny fingers flexed open and closed several times, before sighing deeply, seemingly content where he was.

 

Aragorn could do nothing but stare at him in wonder, as his son stirred and opened his eyes, revealing unfocused eyes that Aragorn knew would look just like his beloveds’ someday. He looked up at Legolas and smiled.

 

Never had his love looked as radiant.

 

Gently, he lay the new prince in the crib that was by the bed, reaching out to take Legolas’s hand as he dropped a kiss onto his forehead.

 

Legolas accepted the embrace with a soft, tired sigh, settling against him. “We should name him.”

 

“Do you have anything in mind?”

 

“… Gweithir.”

 

“The people’s Lord?” Aragorn thought about it for a few moments, “It certainly suits him.” He glanced back down at his son and smiled, “Prince Gweithir, Son of King Estel and Prince Consort Legolas.”


End file.
